


The Exhibition

by CloudLeopard



Series: Brokeback Bangtan [4]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Park Jimin, Dry Humping, Fluff, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Injury, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Smut, Top Jeon Jungkook, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 16:28:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15441087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudLeopard/pseuds/CloudLeopard
Summary: Where Jimin moves back to Seoul to pursue his artistry career and Jungkook stays in Busan to prepare for fatherhood. Somehow they need to figure out how to keep it together.This follows straight on from the end of Part 3, no time skip this time.





	The Exhibition

**Author's Note:**

> After some comments on the last one about Jungkook being unlikeable, I've added some extra scenes into this one, hopefully, to explain a bit better about where he's coming from. it's really difficult as I'm writing from Jimin's point of view, we won't get to fully hear Jungkook's side for a while yet. I'm writing bits alongside though, so I know Jungkooks feelings and motivations, I don't want him to come across as a scumbag because he really isn't.
> 
> The sheer amount of comments on part 3 was overwhelming and truly flattering, thank you to everyone who took the time, I genuinely appreciate it. I hope part 4 lives up to everyone's expectations. Part 5 is coming ASAP.
> 
> This AU is also spiralling way beyond what I ever expected it to be. It was only intended to be fairly short, maybe 40K-50k words, at the end of chapter 4 it's already totalling over 82k words and I still have so much planned for them. For those of you reading along, thank you, knowing you care as much about these guys as I do keeps me going.

Jimin finally arrived in Seoul, the drive had been harder than he’d expected, and driving alone without Yoongi had been surprisingly lonely and leaving Jungkook behind had hurt, although that bit he’d obviously expected.

He navigated his way through the crowded street, looking for the place that was to be both his home and his workspace while he prepared for his first exhibition, and hopefully beyond.

It was truly scary, being adrift now, having to live on nothing apart from his savings until December, and that was only assuming that he actually managed to sell something at his first exhibition, which was in no way guaranteed.

The studio is technically furnished but it's sparse, a bed, a couch that looks like it’s been witness to many things over the years, and has some dubious stains on it, a small table and a set of drawers. The minuscule kitchen is similarly appointed, the bare minimum, but Jimin can work with it. The place has a large open area, naturally lit for a good portion of the day, plenty big enough for him to be able to set out his art supplies and leave them out without getting in the way or causing any issues. 

It takes him what feels like an infinite number of trips to bring his belongings up in the rickety but thankfully functioning lift. He’s tempted to leave unpacking for another day but actually, he needs to make his mark on this place, make it his. He unearths his radio first, tuning it in and finding something to inspire him to get moving. He makes his bed, smoothing the sheets on and fluffing up the duvet he’s brought with him. He pulls the set of drawers over next to the bed, it’ll have to double as his bedside table, for now, he puts his clothes away in the drawers and arranges some things on top, bedside lamp, alarm clock, deodorant and cologne.

Satisfied he now has somewhere to sleep he moves on to the kitchen, unearthing the box of crockery, cutlery and cooking equipment he’s accumulated over the years at uni, stowing his things away in the cupboards and drawers before finding the box of food his mum has packed. Seeing all the food she’s managed to cram in makes him smile, and remember that he needs to text his parents to let them know he’s arrived, he temporarily abandons his unpacking to do that before he forgets.

Lastly he unpacks his art supplies, arranging the space that he will use so it’s perfect for him, his final act is to drag over a small table, it’s been positioned as a coffee table but he needs somewhere to lay out his pencils more than he needs a coffee table, and this will be fine for now. As he reaches into the box for the first set, he’s distracted by an envelope he most definitely didn’t put in there, it just has his name on the front, and the handwriting looks like Jungkook’s, he swallows hard, not expecting this at all. He picks it up gingerly, unsure if he wants to open it right now, the last few days and weeks have been such an emotional rollercoaster, actually he could do with a bit of a break, time to breathe and reflect. He toys with it, turning it over in his hands, both wanting to rip it open and read it, and wanting to rip it up and burn it. In the end, for now, he places in unopened on his bedside table, to be dealt with later on.

Once he’s unpacked he decides to get out for a bit, grabbing his keys and wallet along with his phone he heads out to explore his new neighbourhood, walking the streets, taking a couple of pictures of things that catch his eye. He notes down the nearest convenience store, no doubt somewhere he will frequent regularly once he’s settled in. There are several restaurants within easy walking distance too, sending out enticing smells into the early evening air. Jimin walks without any particular aim and, when the sun starts to set and his stomach starts to really protest at how long it’s been since he last ate he heads back to his new home.

 

 

He quickly falls into a routine, rising fairly late, he’s never been particularly fond of waking up early, eating, drawing, walking the neighbourhood, eating, drawing and sleeping, It’s a peaceful existence. Jimin has plenty of time and space to create, to draw and to find inspiration, it’d be perfect if he wasn’t so lonely. He misses the closeness he has with his Busan friends, and his uni friends, but mostly he misses Jungkook. The last couple of years have been tumultuous but he can’t help but feel, despite everything, that they are destined to be together. There are moments when dirty great streaks of envy bolt though him though, thinking of Jungkook and Hyejin preparing to move in together, to have their baby. Mostly he needs Jungkook to prove that he means more to him that Hyejin does, and that next to impossible with things how they are.

He meets with Choi Seunghyun regularly, taking him drawings as he completes them, listening seriously to the feedback he’s given, and striving to improve. He craves these days, feeding off the physical human interaction that is missing from his day to day life. He gets texts of course, from his parents, from his uni friends, from his Busan friends, and from Jungkook. He still hasn’t opened the letter, scared to confront what might be contained within it.

 

 

And then a text comes from Yoongi, which makes him grin.

 

From: Yoongi

“Friday night Jimin?” 

 

From: Me

“?” 

 

He gets a rolling eyes emoji back from Yoongi, which he guesses he deserves.

 

From: Yoongi

“Are you free? To go out? The rest of us are meeting, for once we all have a free night, can you make it?”

 

From: Me

“Hell yes! Where and when?”

 

Jimin is ridiculously excited, he definitely needs this, to get out, to blow off some steam, to do something other than eat, draw, walk and sleep, to see his friends. Yoongi sends him the details, Jimin doesn’t know the bar but it’s not that far from his really. Ok, it is actually a bit of a trek across the city, but it’ll be worth it to see the others, he’s missed them.

 

He gets there late, the damn bus having taken ages, but it’s worth it when he sees the five familiar smiling faces. Hoseok is first to him, grabbing his hand and demanding he dances, Jimin laughs, but protests that he needs a drink first.

He ends up having several drinks first, catching up with the others, laughing and joking and it’s so fucking nice to be back together, with one glaringly obvious absence. Taehyung is the first to leave the table, someone having caught his eye on the dancefloor and he smiles both apologetically and predatorily as he heads towards his quarry. The rest of them abandon the table soon after, plunging on to the crowded dancefloor, singing out at the top of their lungs to the songs that they know, pressed up against sweaty strangers, and Jimin hasn’t felt this alive in ages. He dances mostly with Hoseok to start with, their usual fake rivalry making him dance harder than ever. When he returns after taking a break for a drink, Hoseok has disappeared so he dances with Taehyung, trying to cheer him up after his attempts with the person he has his eye on had totally failed. They dance more seductively than he dances with Hoseok, Taehyung stands behind Jimin with his hands on his hips, dipping and shaking their asses. Jimin spins around and finds himself face to face with Taehyung, hips still swaying, sliding his arms around Taehyung's neck, suddenly he is too close, and for a brief second, Jimin is tempted to lean forward and kiss him. Taehyung looks fucking sexy as hell tonight and it would be so easy, he trusts him and he already knows what magic Taehyung can weave with his monster dick, they make intense eye contact, but before he can give in to the temptation, something resembling concern and understanding crosses Taehyung's face and he steps back, grabbing Jimin’s hand and pulling him off the dancefloor, he leads them to the bar and gets them both more drinks before grabbing a table. Jimin looks at Taehyung and gulps,

“sorry,” he mumbles out.

Taehyung grabs his hand, squeezing him tightly, “’s ok, I know I’m hot,” he smirks, making Jimin giggle, “but you’d regret it,” he concludes wisely.

Jimin nods and sighs, “yeah, I know you’re right,” he agrees, “its fucking embarrassing though,” he grumbles.

“Ahh Jimin, we all get stupid when we’re horny,” Taehyung reassured him, “if you weren’t head over heels in love with my best friend and seriously fucked up by his wedding I would definitely go there again,” he leers at Jimin, grinning.

Jimin grins back sheepishly, “go on then,” he challenges, “make me feel better. What’s the stupidest thing you’ve done when you’ve been horny?”

To his surprise, Taehyung blushes deeply, coughing before he answers, “ahh well, I’d rather not go there,” he stalled, “but if you look just there,” he pointed, deflecting the attention from himself, “you can see another example of horny stupidity.”

Jimin looks where Taehyung is pointing, unable to see at first exactly who he is supposed to be looking at, and then once he’s seen it, he can’t tear his eyes away, because over against the wall on the far side on the dance floor, Yoongi has someone pinned, and it’s the last person Jimin would have expected.

“Yoongi and Hoseok?” he squeaks out in a most undignified voice, “what the fuck?”

Taehyung shrugged casually as if it’s no big deal, “it happens occasionally, between those two I mean, only ever in Seoul. Drunk and horny Hoseok and Yoongi leads to them fucking.”

Jimin looks again, the way they are pressed together and have their hands roaming all over each other, they look like they’re together for real.

“Are they…going out?” he asks Taehyung.

Taehyung barks out a laugh, “Jesus Christ no, they’d tear each other to shreds, sex only, friends with very occasional benefits.”

“Maybe I should get one of those,” Jimin told Taehyung in a very quiet voice.

Taehyung looked back at him quizzically, “do you really want that though? I thought you and Kookie were going to try and make a go of it.”

Jimin shrugged miserably, “yeah but he’s married isn’t he,” his tone more bitter than he’d expected.

Taehyung eyed him shrewdly, “wait,” he said, “you don’t actually think he and Hyejin are shagging do you?”

Jimin looked briefly at Taehyung, shrugging again, telling Taehyung with his gestures his true fears.

“Holy shit Jimin,” Taehyung whispered, “you are such a fucking idiot.”

Jimin’s head shot up, glaring at Taehyung, before he could even reply Taehyung held up a hand, gesturing at Jimin to stop.

“Jimin, seriously?” Taehyung asked him, “do you know how many nights I had Jungkook with me sobbing his heart out after what he did? It broke him.”

“Yeah I know,” Jimin started before Taehyung shut him down again.

“I don’t think you do if you’re worried he’s going to sleep with her again, he would seriously do anything to prove to you that he’s in love with you,” Taehyung tried to explain.

Jimin shook his head sadly, “still got married though didn’t he?” he questioned.

“Jimin,” Taehyung sighed, “he had no choice, you know that don’t you?”

Jimin just looked at Taehyung.

“Don’t you?” Taehyung questioned urgently.

Jimin sighed and nodded, “I know, it’s just…” he trailed off miserably.

“Look Jimin,” Taehyung started urgently, “he swore me to secrecy on this, I shouldn’t be telling you, and he’ll probably fucking kill me, but…” Taehyung gulps, taking in a deep breath before continuing, “he’s only married because he loves you.”

Jimin looked at Taehyung, “that doesn’t make any fucking sense,” he grumbled.

Taehyungs face paled, worrying Jimin,

“Jimin if he didn’t love you he wouldn’t be here,” Taehyung all but breathed, pain etched across his face.

“Wouldn’t be where Tae?” Jimin asked quietly.

“Alive,” Taehyung stated bluntly and Jimin’s eyed widened with sudden understanding.

“What?” he squeaked.

“There was a note,” Taehyung choked out, “he had pills.” Silent tears started to track down Taehyung’s face, “but thank fuck he messaged me, he couldn’t do it, he wanted to be out of it but he didn’t want to lose you, didn’t want to hurt you any more than he already had.”

Tears started flooding down Jimin’s face too, and the two held each other, comforting each other, Jimin suddenly desperate to contact Jungkook, to tell him again how much he loves him. He vows to tell him every day, remind him that he is loved because the thought that he could have lost him a few weeks back is unbearable, having him alive and married is by far the better option. Jungkook chose life and marriage because of Jimin, and that feels fucking huge.

They head away shortly after, leaving Hoseok and Yoongi sucking each other’s faces off and groping each other inelegantly, leaving Namjoon and Seokjin to head home together. Jimin sees Taehyung home, hugging him tightly before he leaves, pressing grateful kisses into his hair. Taehyung offers for Jimin to stay the night but Jimin refuses, he has to go home tonight, he has something to do, it’s time to open the letter.

 

 

Its 3 am before he makes it home, and he’s been drinking, it’s probably the worst time to be opening Jungkook’s letter, but since Taehyung’s startling confessions, he has no choice. He sits on his bed, reaching for the envelope with trembling hands before sliding his index finger under the flap and easing it carefully open. There are more pages than he expected, quite a bundle in fact but they’re wrapped in another letter, and it’s this he reads first. Jungkook’s handwriting is messy, it looks like he’s written this in a hurry, but Jimin can read it, and it’s all he can do not to sob at its contents knowing how desperate Jungkook had been.

 

 

Dear Jimin,

I don’t know how many times I’ve written those words since I did what I did, since I cheated on you but I’m sending you them all now, do with them what you will.

I don’t know if I will ever be able to apologise enough for sleeping with someone else, I was drunk and hurt but that is no excuse and I know it. Knowing how much pain I’ve caused you this summer has been almost unbearable. I thought I’d never have the chance to be with you again, I wouldn’t have blamed you, but you forgave me. You loved me enough to stand by me, watch me get married, make my wedding cake, I can’t imagine how much that hurt you and I am so sorry for everything.

I have no idea how we are going to make this work, you in Seoul and me in Busan, you being an artist and me a dad but if you’ll have me I will do everything I can to make sure you know every day just how much I love you Jimin, because I do, with my entire body and soul, I am yours for as long as you’ll have me.

The pages here are a diary of sorts, but I didn’t write ‘dear diary’, I wrote ‘dear Jimin’ because you are the only one I want to confide in, to share things with, and I want you to be able to do the same with me, no more miscommunications between us.

I wish only wonderful things for your future, for you to be able to draw and create and be the massive success I know you deserve. I want for you to love and laugh, to be happy, to be with someone that makes you happy. I want that person to be me, but if it isn’t then I’ll let you go, I will cry and mourn but I will let you go because you deserve everything this world has to offer.

I love you, I have loved you since the first day I saw you, barely awake and probably wondering what the hell you’d signed up for at the café, I will love you until we are old and grey and wrinkly, I will love you until my dying breath Park Jimin.

I am yours

Jungkook

 

 

Jimin is sobbing by the time he reaches the end of the letter, it’s just so raw and honest, Jungkook may struggle to get his emotions out in person sometimes but his writing is impeccable. Jimin thumbs through the rest of the pages, too many to read tonight, but they are dated from early on after their argument to the day before he left to come back to Seoul, this is Jungkook’s experiences and Jimin’s stomach lurches, knowing that somewhere in those pages is probably details of Jungkook’s suicide attempt, and he knows it’s going to be the hardest thing he’s ever read. For now, at 4am, he has to go to sleep, stowing the diary pages away for another day, sending just one text before he falls asleep, one for Jungkook to wake up to, knowing Jungkook will understand, knowing Jungkook will recognise that Jimin has finally opened his letter, three little meaningful words.

 

From: Me

”I am yours.”

 

His phone ringing jolts him awake a mere three hours later and he groans, reaching out and answering it without even looking. No one rings him this early, most people text anyway, this had better be fucking important.

“’lo?” he croaks out, eyes still clamped shut.

For a second there is nothing, then a small sob echoes down the line and Jimin is suddenly instantly awake.

“Hello?” he tries again, fearful.

What he gets in response is a very small and gasped, “Min.”

“Kook?” he questions, heart hammering, “you ok?”

He gets a watery hiccupped giggle back and a very soft, “you are mine?”

Jimin relaxes, laying back on his bed and letting a small smile cross his face, his boyfriend is ok, just emotional.

“Sorry it took me so long,” he told Jungkook quietly, “I just needed a bit of time.”

“You’ve read it?” Jungkook asked quietly.

“Just the first letter so far, but I talked to Tae last night,” then it was his turn to gulp, “Kook, why didn’t you tell me?” he asked softly.

“I couldn’t,” Jungkook moans back quietly, “I just…there were too many feelings, but I couldn’t leave you,” Jungkook confesses, his voice clearly strained.

“I need to see you,” Jimin told him, suddenly needing more than anything to hold Jungkook again.

“Oh god, yes Min, me too,” Jungkook told him desperately, before adding shyly, “can I come today? Now?”

“Seriously?” Jimin asked.

“Please Min,” Jungkook asked, voice quiet again.

“Of course,” Jimin agreed, “I need some more sleep though, I’m so tired,” as if to demonstrate this he suddenly yawned hugely, rubbing at his grit-filled eyes.

“Sleep while I’m driving?” Jungkook suggested, “I’ll be there around lunchtime.”

And Jimin is grinning again, “yes Kook, god that sounds good.”

“I’m on my way,” Jungkook told him, his voice low and reassuring, almost lulling Jimin back to sleep, Jungkook was coming, and it felt like a weight was both lifting off him and pushing him gently into his mattress.

They said their goodbyes, and Jimin barely had the presence of mind to set an alarm before sleep reclaimed him.

 

 

When the alarm rips him rudely out of his second sleep, Jimin is practically bouncing with happiness. He showers quickly, choosing something cute to wear that he knows Jungkook will like, tidying around his little studio, making it somewhere he’ll be proud to show Jungkook. He leaves his latest drawing on his easel, it’s a close up of one of the flowers from Jungkook’s wedding cake. This drawing had hurt a bit to start with, but the act of recreating it was proving cathartic and so he’d continued, its sugar petals are stained with blues and purples and it contrasts beautifully with the white canvas.

When Jungkook finally knocks, Jimin cannot wipe the enormous grin off his face, squeezing Jungkook tightly before grabbing his hand to give him the grand tour. It obviously doesn’t take long, Jimin’s space isn’t big, but Jungkook approves and admires it, and that is more than enough validation for Jimin. He led him to the sofa, sitting him down, angling themselves towards each other with knees touching, and Jimin has to speak.

“Kook,” he starts quietly, “I kind of need to just say some stuff.”

Jungkook just nods, but there is a slight expression of fear that crosses his face.

Jimin blinks, and reaches for his hand, “stop that,” he tells Jungkook quietly before continuing.

“Firstly, I am sorry that you couldn’t talk to me when you were so desperate, when Tae told me…” Jimin tailed off and Jungkook grumbled slightly at Taehyung’s treachery.

“Don’t be cross with him,” Jimin pleaded, “I needed to know.”

“I haven’t read the rest of the pages,” Jimin confessed, “I don’t know if I should, or if I can, so, for now, I’m just going to keep them safe.” He looks at Jungkook for confirmation that he is ok with that, and Jungkook nods, so Jimin continues.

“Kook, I think we need to just draw a big fucking line under all this, don’t you? Because I can’t keep hurting over the same thing and having the same conversation with you. You made a mistake, and yes it hurt, but you love me and I love you, you are mine and I am yours, and I think it’s time for us to move on. What happened happened, it’s in the past, we can’t change it but we can’t keep letting it define us. Time to start again?” 

He stopped speaking, looking up at Jungkook, waiting for his response.

“Min I can’t ask you to do that,” Jungkook grimaced and Jimin slapped him hard on the thigh, making him startle and yelp.

“You’re not asking me to do anything, I’m asking you, can you do that? Move on with me? Build a new future together?”

Jungkook looked at him for a long minute, searching Jimin’s eyes, he could practically hear Jungkook thinking and then finally, thankfully he nodded,

“yeah, I can do that,” Jungkook breathed.

“Thank fuck,” Jimin exclaimed happily, throwing his arms around Jungkook, “because I have some serious gossip to tell you from last night now that the heavy shit is out of the way.”

Jungkook giggled, his eyes lighting up, “oh?” he questioned.

“You will never guess who was kissing and groping who last night,” Jimin started, practically bouncing on the couch in his excitement to tell Jungkook.

“Well, who was out?” Jungkook questioned sensibly.

Jimin listed them all, and Jungkook eyed him shrewdly, before sighing with resignation,

“not again?” he told Jimin.

“Wait,” Jimin started, “not again what?”

“Yoongi and Hoseok?” Jungkook questioned, making Jimin’s mouth fall open in shock, and then pout.

“How the hell could you possibly know that?” he sulked, his gossip spoilt.

Jungkook grinned at his boyfriend’s pouting face, “it’s happened before and Taehyung is my best friend and cannot keep a secret to save his own goddamn life,” Jungkook explained, “did you actually see them?”

Jimin nodded, “sucking each other’s faces off and rutting against each other like a pair of dogs,” he confirmed and then watches in fascination as Jungkook’s eyes blink for a bit too long, his pink lips open slightly and a little tiny moan escapes from between them.

“Damn it Min,” he breathed, swallowing hard, and Jimin knows from the lust that has clouded Jungkook’s eyes that he isn’t thinking about Hoseok and Yoongi.

He leans forward, pressing his lips to Jungkook’s and quickly slipping his tongue into Jungkook’s waiting mouth. He feels Jungkook groan out and his hand slide around the back of his head, holding   
Jimin close. They kiss, harsh and desperate before Jimin pulls back, licking his lips, tasting Jungkook on them, mischief dancing in his eyes before he asks,

“are you hungry?”

The look of utter disbelief on Jungkook’s face makes Jimin nearly giggle out loud.

“Am I, what?” Jungkook stumbles.

“Hungry?” Jimin questions again, “I’m starving, shall we go out and get something?”

“Min,” Jungkook wails out in frustration. He indicates at his crotch where his jeans are clearly struggling to contain his solid cock, “I… please,” he begs, turning his big brown eyes on Jimin.

“Oh fine,” Jimin huffs out in mock exasperation, “I’ll blow you first, then can we go and eat?”

“Yes, shit, please, yes,” Jungkook begs, hands scrabbling to unbuckle his belt.

Jimin slipped to his knees in front of the couch, “calm down Kook,” he chuckled gently, placing his hands over Jungkook’s, removing them, stopping him from opening his trousers.

Jungkook’s hips bucked involuntarily against nothing, “I can’t Min,” he whimpered, “please, fuck, hurry up.”

Jimin deftly opened Jungkook’s trousers, grabbing hold of them and his underwear, shimmying them down enough to allow Jungkook’s cock free, making Jungkook whimper out and grab at Jimin desperately. Jimin can’t deny it, Jungkook’s raw primal lust and almost incoherence are a major fucking turn on. He slides straight down on Jungkook’s cock, taking him all the way in, wincing as Jungkook grabs handfuls of his hair tightly and clenches his fists. Jungkook is solid in his mouth, the velvety smooth skin of the head of his cock sliding effortlessly to the back of Jimin’s throat, and then its Jimin’s turn to groan out, it feels like it’s been far too long since they have been together like this. Jimin thrusts himself against the couch, it’s slightly uncomfortable but it’ll do, the cushions providing enough resistance for his to get some relief for his own aching dick.

And then Jungkook starts bucking his hips, fucking into Jimin’s mouth and he loses control of himself, coming so suddenly in his underwear, he hadn’t really expected it. It makes him suck harder on Jungkook, moaning out as best he can, sending shockwaves of sounds into Jungkook, and making him come very shortly afterwards. Jungkook fucking yells when he comes, surprising Jimin with the sheer volume, even though he’s well used to his vocal boyfriend. When Jimin finishes licking Jungkook clean, finally letting his softening cock slip from his lips Jungkook reaches for him, pulling him up, reaching for his crotch. Jimin blushed when Jungkook only encountered his soft cock and looked at him quizzically.

“I, umm, need clean underwear before we go out,” Jimin muttered.

To his surprise, Jungkook just groaned out, “Jesus Min, I knew you liked blowing me, but you didn’t even fucking touch yourself,” he breathed.

Jimin pushed himself off Jungkook, “shut up,” he grumbled, blushing, heading over to his drawers and retrieving what he needed before heading to the bathroom, “be back in a sec.”

Jungkook grinned at him from the couch where he was wriggling back into his trousers, “take all the time you need,” he smirked at Jimin.

 

 

Sated for now they go out together, Jimin showing off his neighbourhood, pointing out his favourite spots, grabbing some food from his favourite vendors, laughing and joking together. Being openly gay might not be widely acceptable, but in Seoul, skinship between guys was largely ignored, and so they could be much more daring together than they would be out and about in Busan, being able to hold Jungkook’s hand or walk with their arms around each other’s waists was so damn nice. Jimin leads Jungkook to his favourite park, it isn’t large but, even though it’s in the middle of a very busy urban area, the park itself is often quiet and Jimin loves coming here to just relax. Even though it’s still early afternoon and sunny, it’s cold, the November weather foretelling of the winter that is coming. They are bundled up well enough to sit for a bit though, and it’s private enough for Jimin to risk lowering Jungkook to the ground and kissing him. It’s not desperate or lust-filled this time, they kiss slowly, taking their time, enjoying each other and Jimin can barely keep the smile off his face. He’s not the only one, he can feel Jungkook’s cheeks pulling up the corners of his mouth too and he wants to capture this, reaching for his phone and holding it above them and snapping some pictures. Considering he wasn’t looking for the first couple they’ve come out really well, him and Jungkook kissing, looking adoringly at each other and then grinning t the camera together. There is no doubt that these pictures show two men deeply in love and Jimin fingers itch, making him sigh,

“God I want to draw these,” he breathed.

Jungkook stiffened slightly underneath him, “for your exhibit?” he questioned.

Jimin laughed loudly, “fuck no,” he exploded, “for my personal collection,” he smirked back.

Jungkook relaxed again, “personal collection huh? He questioned, “how many pictures are in that?”

Jimin blushed, “a few, mostly pretty rough ones, capturing the moment type things.”

“Can I see?” Jungkook asked eagerly.

Jimin flushed deeper, remembering some of his favourites, “ahh it’s embarrassing,” he told Jungkook.

“Why?” Jungkook questioned.

“they’reallofyou,” he huffed out.

Jungkook thought for a second, deciphering Jimin’s mumble, “all of me?” he questioned, and Jimin nodded, “I’m flattered,” Jungkook told him sincerely, “how many have you done?”

“I haven’t counted,” Jimin protested, “probably fifteen or so,” he winces, waiting for Jungkook’s reaction, it sounds like a lot when he says it out loud, does it make him seem like some sort of creepy stalker?

“Fifteen?” Jungkook questions, “I really want to see now.”

Jimin is lying, there are 23, and of course, he has counted them. They range from little details of Jungkook, his eyes, his hands to all of him, clothed and naked, working and sleeping. His body is exquisite and Jimin hadn’t been able to help himself from capturing it.

He takes a deep breath, “I’ll show you when we get back if you want, but don’t be too harsh,” he looks at Jungkook with pleading eyes, needing him to understand that by showing Jungkook his rough art, he’s baring his soul. But Jungkook has done that for him, by sending him the diary pages he’s laid himself bare for Jimin, it’s the least he can do to open up fully too.

“Never,” Jungkook whispers, smiling reassuringly at Jimin. “Talking of going back, can we? My ass is freezing to death.”

Jimin giggled, standing up and pulling Jungkook with him, “I’ll warm it up for you when we get home,” he promises cheekily.

 

 

They step back through Jimin’s door, giggling together, carrying more food, ready for a relaxed night on the couch together. Neither of them notices the note until Jungkook treads on it, making the paper crinkle under his foot.

“What the…?” he questions, hopping slightly to try and retrieve it, reading it before blushing and giggling, passing it to Jimin.

Jimin reads it, eyes widening, it’s not a long note, it’s obviously been pushed under his door by one of his neighbours.

 

Dear apt 306

The walls in this building are not as soundproof as you might imagine, and some of us have children. Please try to be more considerate in the future.

A fellow resident.

 

He looks at Jungkook, and Jungkook looks at him,

“don’t blame me,” Jungkook splutters out.

“You were the one screaming,” Jimin points out, giggling.

“Because you were blowing me Jimin,” Jungkook explains, whining slightly before starting to giggle himself.

“Ok,” Jimin nods seriously, “no more blow jobs.”

Jungkook squeaks out in protest, even though he obviously knows Jimin is joking. He throws himself down at Jimin’s knees, clinging on to him and begging,

“no, please, don’t say that, I’ll be good, I promise, I’ll scream into a pillow, you can gag me, just don’t take away my blow jobs.”

“Idiot boy,” Jimin grumbles fondly, hauling Jungkook back up again and swatting him on the ass.

 

 

The take the groceries to the kitchen, cooking together, stopping occasionally to share glances, stroke each other reassuringly, enjoying the moment. They laze in front of the TV for the evening, curling around each other, snuggling into each other, enjoying the new found contentment in each other’s company. As Jimin really starts to feel the effects of the lack of sleep from the night before, Jungkook pushes him gently towards the bathroom, cleaning their teeth together and changing for bed together. They cuddle in bed and fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, safe in each other’s arms.

 

 

The following morning, before Jungkook has to leave, he insists on seeing Jimin’s drawings of him, curious and Jimin relents. He retrieves the folder from where it has been stowed, not hidden, but not obvious to casual visitors either, these drawings were only ever intended for his eyes. He passes the folder to Jungkook, letting him open it, letting him look. He watches Jungkook’s face as he looks at each one, drinking in the details, gasping only once, when he gets to the picture of himself kissing Taehyung on Jimin’s bed the night of their threesome. He takes ages and, even though he’s never done it, Jimin almost has to restrain himself from biting his nails at the tension Jungkook’s silence is creating. When he finally looks up, Jimin is surprised to see Jungkook’s eyes shining with unshed tears, he kneels beside him worried.

“What is it?” he asks Jungkook gently.

Jungkook looked down at him, “you really do love me don’t you?” he questioned.

Jimin smiled back, “I really do, and I always will.”

“Fuck, Min, these are incredible,” Jungkook breathed, “I love them.”

“Ahh they’re just rough sketches,” Jimin started.

“No,” Jungkook warned him, “don’t even start that shit, “they’re amazing, you’re amazing.”

He stowed the pictures reverently back in the folder before he reached for Jimin, pulling him up into his lap and hugging him tightly.

He snuggled his face into Jimin’s neck, peppering little kisses along Jimin’s skin, murmuring to him,

“I want to make love to you before I have to go.”

His words send a bolt of desire through Jimin and he leans down to kiss Jungkook, “yes please,” he breathes back.

Jungkook stands up holding his arms tightly around Jimin so he didn’t fall, and carried him over to the bed. They haven’t got dressed yet so there aren’t many clothes to remove, they work slowly and deliberately together, in no hurry, taking their time to enjoy each other. 

When Jungkook has to leave their parting isn’t so painful, it feels like they’ve done a lot of healing in the last day or so, taken some big steps forward, and Jungkook has promised that, unless something drastic happens, he will be back in four weeks for Jimin’s first exhibition.

It isn’t until much later in the day, when Jimin is driven out of the house by his stomach that he realises that Jungkook has left a parting shot for his neighbour. Taped to the outside of his door is a note in Jungkook’s handwriting, obviously meant in reply to the note from last night.

 

I am sorry, I can’t help having the best boyfriend ever, at least I was only visiting.

 

Jimin snorts at Jungkook’s audacity, and rips the note off his door, blushing at the thought that people have been reading that all damn day.

 

 

It’s only a week later when he gets the text from Jungkook that he’s been kind of dreading,

 

From: BBallBaker

“Hyejin had the baby this morning, it was gross and terrifying and took forever. The baby is early, and tiny but is healthy. It’s a girl, we’ve called her Eunae, she only weighs 5lb 5oz, I’m scared I’m going to break her.”

 

Jungkook has attached a photo, the baby is wrapped warmly in a blanket, not much more than her face is showing but she is so clearly Jungkook’s child. The jealousy that Jimin had expected is completely absent, instead, he feels a rush of pure love for this innocent tiny life. There are no ugly thoughts on how Eunae came into being, just that she is here, and perfect.

 

From: Me

“Kook, she’s gorgeous. How is Hyejin? When will you guys get to take her home? Does Eunae have to stay in hospital longer because she’s early?”

 

Jimin literally has no clue how anything works now, but he wants to know.

 

From: BBallBaker

“She doesn’t have to stay in, she’s healthy, all is good, probably they’ll be released tomorrow.”

 

From: Me

“Oh, ok, that’s good.”

 

He’s a bit shy to ask the next question but does it anyway.

 

From: Me

“Can I come and meet her?”

 

From: BBallBaker

“Yes, of course. Maybe give it a few days?”

 

Jimin readily agrees, and they share a few more texts back and forward before he shoos Jungkook off his phone and back to his wife and baby, Jimin has something to do anyway.

 

 

Eunae is eight days old when Jimin meets her for the first time. He’s arranged with Jungkook and Hyejin for him to visit overnight, promising not to get in the way, they are both keen for him to come.

His knock on their door is answered by Hyejin, looking exhausted but radiant, he presses flowers, a card and a present into her hands, grinning broadly at her before she leads him to the lounge.

Jungkook is reclined on the couch, shirtless with a tiny head peeping out from under a blanket on his chest. Jimin’s breath literally catches in his throat, Jungkook looks the same as Hyejin, so very tired, but so very happy. Jimin kneels next to the couch, grinning broadly at Jungkook, hand hovering over Eunae’s tiny head, unsure if he can touch. Jungkook grins back,

“want to see?” he asks quietly so as not to disturb the sleeping newborn.

Jimin nods, and Jungkook lifts the blanket. Eunae is dressed only in a nappy, her minute arms and legs tucked in underneath her, Jimin can see her breathing, and it’s wondrous. He looks at Jungkook as he gently tucks her back under the blanket,

“she is so tiny,” Jimin breathes.

Jungkook nods, “yeah I know, you get used to it though.”

Jimin looks at him, surprised, “really,” he questions.

Jungkook laughs softly, jostling Eunae, disturbing her, making her grumble and shuffle, “oops,” he says, “want a cuddle now I’ve woken her?”

“With you or her?” Jimin questions cheekily.

“Her you dolt,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, shuffling himself up to a sitting position, using one hand to secure Eunae to his chest.

“Really?” Jimin questions, “do I have to take off my shirt?”

Jungkook giggles again, “it’s not mandatory Min, we’re doing what’s called skin to skin contact because she’s early, its calming for her, she likes it.”

“Ok,” Jimin nods, pulling off his jumper and t-shirt before shivering slightly.

“Right,” Jungkook tells him, patting the sofa next to him “sit here, recline a bit, get comfy and I’ll pass her to you.”

Jimin complies, watching as Jungkook shucked the blanket off, cradling his daughter carefully but confidently, placing her on Jimin’s chest and tucking them both under the soft blanket.

The December chill obviously affects Jungkook now that he’s away from the warmth from the baby and the blanket because he dives for Jimin’s clothes, quickly pulling them on, “just borrowing for a sec,” he tells Jimin, but Jimin isn’t really listening. He is completely entranced by the tiny life he now has on his chest. He can feel her breathing, feel the delicate softness of her skin, feel everything. He studies her, the way her dusting of dark hair curls gently over the delicate folds of her ears, the eyelashes against her cheeks, already long like her dads, the mini button nose. He has naturally curled his hands protectively around her, cupping her tiny bottom in one hand and resting the other carefully across her back. He has never felt anything like this before, she is a miracle, a wonder. He isn’t sure how long he stares at Eunae, drinking in every detail, breathing slow and even, feeling a surge of protection towards her, sniffing her tiny head but when he finally looks up, Jungkook and Hyejin are stood next to each other, identical smiles on their faces, and he suddenly feels awkward.

“Sorry, am I hogging her?” he asks quietly, desperate not to disturb Eunae.

Jungkook and Hyejin shake their heads,

“no, its fine, you look so comfortable,” Hyejin tells him, “so does she, but I have to wake her now, feed her, she hasn’t got the hang of waking for food yet, so I’m going to have to borrow her for a bit.”

“Of course,” Jimin says, wanting to scramble up and hand her back but unsure how to do so safely, “I, umm, come and get her?” he gestures helplessly.

Jungkook takes pity on him, gently removing Eunae from Jimin, wrapping her in the blanket as he did and passing her to Hyejin.

Hyejin doesn’t leave the room immediately, she leans into Jimin, kissing him gently on the cheek, making him suddenly very self-conscious of his half-naked state.

“You looked…” she started, struggling to find the words, “serene with her,” she decides, “you looked like she belonged with you.”

An unexpected lump rose in Jimin’s throat, Hyejin had hit the nail on the head, he’d felt like Eunae was his for those moments, if it was this intense for him, what is it like for Jungkook?

“Holy shit,” he breathed as Hyejin left the room with Eunae.

Jungkook grinned, “she’s ok isn’t she?” he asked cheekily before grumbling, “I suppose you want your clothes back now?”

Jimin nodded, goosebumps peppering his skin, “uh yeah, I’m afraid so.”

Jungkook good-naturedly rolled his eyes, “come on then, let’s go find me something.”

They walk down the hallway, past a closed door, “Hyejin’s room,” Jungkook commented, pointing, past the bathroom and on to the last room, small and unmistakeably Jungkook’s. Jimin looked at him quizzically, he hasn’t really thought about it, hasn’t considered where they both sleep in this house, but it’s very obvious now that, despite being married, Jungkook and Hyejin are living as roommates.

As Jungkook pulls off Jimin’s clothes and passes them to him, he has to ask,

“don’t your parents wonder why you don’t share?”

Jungkook shrugged, “they’re too polite to ask outright, and we’ve kind of hinted that Hyejin couldn’t sleep well with being pregnant and me snoring.”

“You don’t really snore though,” Jimin pointed out, making Jungkook laugh.

“They don’t need to know that do they?” he asked, grinning wickedly.

 

 

Jungkook and Jimin cook together as the evening approaches, letting Hyejin rest while Eunae is sleeping, they are muted, respectful but it’s so comfortable. When the food is ready, Jungkook calls Hyejin and they eat together, Jungkook one-handed, the other arm occupied by his daughter, Jimin is mildly surprised how quickly Jungkook has adapted to fatherhood, it suits him. 

After they’ve eaten, Hyejin takes Eunae off to feed her again, and Jimin and Jungkook clear the kitchen. Jimin hadn’t really thought too deeply about how Hyejin and Jungkook would manage together, but it’s clear from just the few hours he’s been here that Jungkook has fully stepped up, doing everything he can to support Hyejin and Eunae, and instead of jealousy, it’s pride that courses through him.

When Eunae has settled again, this time in a Moses basket in the lounge, Jungkook spots the gift that Jimin had brought with him, placed on the side and temporarily forgotten in the excitement of meeting Eunae, he reaches for it, smiling at Jimin, telling him he didn’t need to bring anything. He unwraps it carefully, reverently, maybe recognising the shape. It isn’t large, just under a4 size, Jimin has drawn the first picture that Jungkook had sent him of Eunae, her wrapped in a white blanket, just her face showing. He’s tinted the background a pale pink and, in his careful handwriting, written her full name, date of birth and her weight. It’s so clearly made with love, and both Jungkook and Hyejin gasp. They look at each other, Jungkook reaching for Hyejin, hugging her tenderly as she cries, and Jimin watches this intimate moment, a tiny stab of feeling left out passing through him before he shakes it off, and lets them have their moment.

When Hyejin recovers she untangles herself from Jungkook, looking slightly guiltily at Jimin, before reaching for his hand,

“It’s stunning,” she breathed out, “I haven’t seen one of your pictures close up before, you’re amazing.”

Her eyes return to the picture, drinking in the details, “thank you,” she tells Jimin sincerely, squeezing his hand tightly.

They pass the evening together lethargically, Hyejin and Jungkook clearly tired, Jimin doesn’t truly get why until that night.

 

It’s just before 2 am when Eunae wakes the first time, and her cry isn’t particularly loud but in the still of the night, it’s all he can hear. Jungkook and Hyejin work together to soothe her, and after a while, they succeed and Jungkook returns to his room and to Jimin. It feels like they’ve barely fallen asleep before Eunae is awake again, and they’re back to pacing the floor. The third time she wakes, Jimin gives up, and goes and joins in with the pacing, taking his turn with the tiny child, rocking her and shushing her gently in his arms. When he wakes up again, just after 8 am, his eyes feel gritty and heavy, he’s completely exhausted, how the fuck have Hyejin and Jungkook coped with this every night?

He yawns heavily over breakfast, dozing baby tucked in his arms, none of them speaking much, Jungkook catches his eye and grins ruefully,

“sorry, Eunae’s a bit nocturnal at the moment.”

Jimin looked at him blearily, “no shit,” he told Jungkook, “how are you not dead?”

Jungkook giggled and shrugged his shoulders, “plenty of practice partying and then going to lectures?”

Jimin grinned back sleepily, “I’m not sure anything could prepare you for this,” he grumbled good-naturedly, gesturing at the baby, “it’s lucky she’s so damn cute.”

Jungkook nodded, smiling, “I think that’s why babies are so damn cute,” he concluded sagely, “to stop you wanting to just abandon them somewhere.”

“Kook,” Jimin gasped, scandalised, “don’t say things like that with your precious daughter in the room,” he clamped his hand over Eunae’s ear, holding her close, “don’t listen to your wicked daddy,” he whispered to her conspiratorially. She squirmed in his arms slightly, turning her face into his chest, making Jimin’s heart constrict again with a rush of love for her.

“I think she likes me,” he told Jungkook quietly, eyes firmly fixed on Eunae.

“Of course she does, how could she not?” Jungkook told him, his voice equally low, sincerity dripping from every syllable.

Jimin tore his eyes away from Eunae, looking at Jungkook, sharing a moment with him, smiling lovingly at each other.

 

It took all he had to hand Eunae back later that day and leave to head back to Seoul, he never imagined a few months ago that he would not only accept the baby but fall in love with her too. She was a part of Jungkook’s life, he was a part of Jungkook’s life, so by default, he and Eunae were now part of each other’s lives, and the overwhelming emotion flowing through him right now is gratitude, which is weird but nice. 

 

 

And then it’s just one week until his exhibition, every moment he’s not with Choi Seunghyun at the gallery where his art is to be shown to the public for the first time he spends drawing. Anything that he creates now won’t make it into the show, it’s far too late, but if by some miracle he does sell some pictures, he’ll need some more to follow them up with.

He doesn’t think Jungkook will make it, two days ago Eunae was readmitted to the hospital, her tiny body struggling to fight off her first cold, her breathing had destabilised and she was now really quite poorly. Jimin has hardly heard from Jungkook, maybe one text a day to let him know how Eunae is doing, he’s obviously terrified and Jimin’s heart goes out to him, he’s worried too, he wishes he could be in Busan to hold Jungkook’s hand.

 

On the day of the exhibition, he’s awake earlier than ever, pacing the floor, answering the myriad of texts that come through from his friends. His parents are already on their way, some of his uni friends, his Busan friends won’t need to travel far, he hasn’t heard from Jungkook since yesterday. Thankfully Eunae is doing much better, she is out of SCBU and onto a normal ward, no longer needing additional oxygen, it shouldn’t be many days until she is released again, and it’s a huge weight of Jimin’s shoulders knowing she is recovering.

The exhibition starts at 11 am, initially, there is a small trickle of people coming in, but, thanks to Choi Seunghyun’s contacts it becomes a flood and Jimin happily mingles, chatting to people, explaining his thoughts behind some of the pieces to interested parties, eavesdropping on other people who are discussing him. He hears a lot of compliments, it’s pretty overwhelming really, he’s been told he has a talent for quite a few years now, but until he met Choi Seunghyun he didn’t actually believe that he could make a career as an artist, now he’s beginning to truly believe.

He doesn’t get to spend much time with his friends, but they all come and congratulate him, to hug him and support him. A couple of his uni lecturers come too, they speak to him as an equal which is flattering and weird in equal measures, but Jungkook is absent.

By 3 pm the event is winding down, the crowd from earlier thinning out and Jimin can now see sold stickers appearing by probably half of the pictures that are displayed, even once he’s given Choi Seunghyun his cut, these sales represent quite an amazing chunk of money, enough to sustain him for the better part of a year if he’s careful, its more than he could have hoped for.

He’s aware of a small disturbance by the door, and then Jungkook is there, looking wildly out of place, he’s dressed down in t-shirt and jeans, he looks flushed and stressed and he quickly scans the room before he finds Jimin. He practically shoves people aside in his haste, swooping Jimin into his arms, hugging him tightly before babbling,

“I’m late, I’m so fucking late, I’m sorry, there was an accident, the damn road was closed for ages, I was stuck, I’m so sorry.” His eyes are wild, searching Jimin’s face for a response.

Jimin hugs him back, murmuring quietly in his ear, “there are a few cameras here Kook, be careful, its fine, don’t worry.”

Jungkook breathes out harshly, letting go of Jimin, “I really am sorry I’m late.”

He looks so worried and distressed that Jimin just needs him to calm down.

“Breathe Kook, we’re cool, come and see what I’ve been up to?” he suggests gently.

Jungkook nods and then, looking around, “the others not here?”

“They were,” Jimin told him, “but they’ve headed off, for now, going to meet up again later for food and drinking,” he smirks, “can you stay? Come out?”

Jungkook nods enthusiastically, “oh god yes,” he agrees fervently, “sounds perfect.”

Jimin leads him to the first drawing as they’re talking, “how is Eunae?” he asked just before they stopped.

“Oh, much better, Christ that was the scariest thing,” he confided.

Jimin nodded, “yeah, I just wanted to be able to do something,” he told Jungkook, wishing he could reach for his hand, knowing he really shouldn’t while the press were around.

Instead, he leads Jungkook around his drawings, chatting to him, showing him as if he was a potential customer, realising after a couple of pictures that they’ve picked up a couple of extra people, keen to hear what he’s saying. By the time they reach the last one, the fractured human heart he’d drawn a while back, the group had grown to maybe 30 people, and there were questions each time he stopped speaking. It was kind of weird, but cool, although he wasn’t looking forward to questions on this one, it feels too personal, and having Jungkook right there could make things awkward. He did, of course, get the question he was most hoping to avoid,

“what inspired you to create this piece?”

The man questioning had been really interested and polite since he’d joined Jimin’s impromptu tour of his pictures, so he didn’t want to be rude. His face coloured slightly before he answered, looking directly at the asker, and trying not to look at Jungkook although he could see him from the corner of his eye,

“ahh,” he started awkwardly, “this one is very personal. I had a, umm, situation in my romantic life and for a while, this was my heart.”

Jimin felt Jungkook stiffen beside him and he ached to be able to reach out to him, to reassure him.

“I apologise for prying,” the interested man told Jimin sincerely, “I hope you don’t mind if I ask if the situation was able to be resolved?”

Jimin genuinely smiled, and his mild colouring became a full-on blush, he giggled slightly before replying, “it was happily resolved,” to the gentleman.

“She is a very lucky lady,” the man told him expansively, inclining his head towards Jimin.

Then it was Jimin’s turn to freeze, it’s not like he intended to become known as a gay artist, rather than just an artist, but to just accept this assumption with his boyfriend stood right next to him made his skin crawl uncomfortably. He hadn’t discussed this aspect of his public image with Choi Seunghyun but heteronormativity be damned, he wasn’t going to hide who he was.

“Thank you,” he told the original questioner, “but the person in question is a gentleman.”

The effect is more dramatic than he was expecting, the entire group that he was showing around gasps as one at his audacity, and there are a couple of disgusted looks in his direction. Sometimes he hates living somewhere so fucking repressed.

“Anyway,” he soldiers on, “any more questions?”

He doesn’t see who asked, but, after a moments silence, one lone voice pipes up,

“you’re gay?”

Jimin smiles, covering up his quaking feelings, “I am an artist,” he answers quietly, “my private life is just that, except obviously where I choose to draw and share it,” he tries a little giggle, to show that there are no hard feelings towards the asker, but it sounds forced and Seunghyun, who had been hovering around for a while, steps in. He talks smoothly about the beginnings of Jimin’s rise to fame, his talent and the people who are interested in his works. Jimin smiles and nods at the right moments but inside he’s quaking, he’s just outed himself to the media, this wasn’t part of the plan at all, and he wonders if Choi Seunghyun is going to be angry with him, whether he’ll even keep him as a client after this.

 

 

He doesn’t get to speak to him privately before he leaves, slightly before the last customer, escaping the now repressive atmosphere that had settled over the room. He had to get out when he did, to be able to breathe again, to meet up with his friends, to be able to relax. He sends a text anyway, to thank Choi Seunghyun for all of his hard work, and to apologise for putting him in a position where he had to rescue Jimin, he can only hope that Seunghyun understands.

He and Jungkook get a taxi together to the restaurant, expense be damned, he’s earnt enough tonight to be a little reckless. Their friends are waiting, thrilled to see than Jungkook made It too, all clamouring for his attention, to catch up with him, to see pictures of the baby and to check how she is doing. The night is raucous, many drinks are consumed with the delicious food as old friends talk well into the night. Hoseok is the first to leave, casting a not-so-subtle look in Yoongi’s direction. Unsurprisingly, Yoongi downs the rest of his drink before following Hoseok just a few minutes later, jeered out of the restaurant by good-natured catcalls from the others. Jimin and Jungkook walk out with Namjoon and Seokjin, they leave Taehyung behind, evidently, his gaze has been well and truly swayed by a cute waiter and he’s obviously hopeful that something might happen between them. Jimin and Jungkook decide to walk, at least part of the way home, it’s a gorgeous clear night, it means it’s cold as hell but they are well bundled up in many layers so they walk, gloved hand in gloved hand, enjoying their time together, chatting about everything and nothing.

They’re probably halfway back to Jimin’s when he becomes aware that something is off with Jungkook, he stops talking and looks at him curiously,

“you ok?” he checks.

Jungkook nodded, “fine, how, umm, how far away from yours are we?”

Jimin considers the question, “twenty or twenty-five minutes I guess?” he estimates.

Jungkook grimaces, “ahh,” he says, uncertainly.

“Kook, seriously, what’s up?” Jimin asked him, pausing and pulling Jungkook to a halt too.

He was surprised when Jungkook blushed, darkening his already frost touched cheeks, “too many drinks,” he grumbled and Jimin giggled, getting it instantly.

“Fool,” he told Jungkook gently, “why didn’t you just say? There must be a café or something open around.”

Jungkook shook his head, “I’ve been looking out for like the last fifteen minutes,” he explained, “everything is shut, going to have to…” he trailed off, indicating an alleyway just ahead and grimacing, “I know its grim but I don’t think I have a choice,” he told Jimin, shifting his weight uncomfortably.”

Jimin shoved him gently in the alley’s direction, “go on then,” he told Jungkook, “I’ll be over there.” Jimin pointed over the road, to a bus shelter, wanting to give Jungkook at least the illusion of privacy.

Jungkook nodded, walking swiftly for the alley as Jimin crossed the road.

 

 

It was just after 3 am, pitch dark apart from the few streetlights that dotted the road, and quiet, most people asleep, it was peaceful and while he was waiting for Jungkook, Jimin perched himself under the bus shelter, tipping his head back against the glass, closing his eyes, breathing deeply and enjoying the night.

He didn’t hear anyone approaching so someone speaking to him from right in front of him startled him half to death, it wasn’t Jungkook, there were four of them, and Jimin knew instantly that they meant trouble. The way they were looking at him, sizing him up, leering at him, he was immediately scared.

Jimin wasn’t the sort of person to get into fights, not even scuffles, if anything he was a peacemaker, so this was unfamiliar territory for him. He was confused however when the first words out of the mouth of the man he took to be the leader of the little group were,

“You’re that drawing guy.”

It wasn’t what he expected at all, he'd assumed that they were just going to mug him, just, he snorted at his internal monologue, like that would be a walk in the park.

He nodded uncertainly, voice louder than he was expecting,

“yeah I draw, why?”

The leader grinning at him menacingly, advancing on him until he was completely surrounded by the gang,

“You're that faggot drawing guy.”

Jimin can literally smell the guy’s rancid breath, he’s that close, but the words that he’s spitting out are worse. He blanches, knowing however he answers, this isn’t going to end well, so he stood up, pulling himself up to his full height, still shorter than all but one of the others and nods again,

“That’s me,” he confirms, his voice far stronger than he feels.

The leader doesn’t speak again, he punches Jimin hard in the face, making his head fling back into the glass of the bus shelter. Then they’re all on him, punching, kicking and jeering at him, and god does it fucking hurt. They don’t stop when he’s on the ground, still kicking at him. He instinctively curls up, trying to protect himself but his hand gets caught as he’s trying to bring it to his head and then there is a searing pain as one of them stamps fully on it, breaking god knows how many bones, he can feel them go. It’s this that makes him scream out, he’d stayed mostly silent until now, hoping fervently to keep Jungkook out of this, but the indescribable pain in his hand changes that. The last thing that he hears before someone kicks him in the head hard enough for him to fall into blissful unconsciousness is the jeering voice of the leader again,

“won’t be able to draw any more will you faggot boy?”

 

 

When he wakes up he can’t decide immediately what hurts the most, he feels like he’s been run over, so many different points of pain. The room is far too bright to allow him to open his eyes and smells clinical, he knows he’s in hospital, and he’s momentarily surprised he isn’t dead, but at least that would probably fucking hurt less. He tries to move, desperately thirsty, but even the smallest movement’s make muscles drag over broken bones and he whimpers, scared.

Then a reassuring gentle hand touches his wrist, leaning over him, speaking gently,

“you’re awake, are you thirsty?” she questions.

Jimin can only croak in response, scared to nod, scared to move anything again.

The gentle touch pats him, “hang on, I’ll get you some water,” she tells him, her hand leaving.

He whimpers when she lets him go, not wanting to be left.

“It’s ok,” she reassures him from just a bit further away from where she was, “I’m not going far.”

He hears the rush of water into a cup, and then she’s back,

“open up,” she tells him gently, placing a straw between his lips, letting him drink at his own pace.

There isn’t enough water, he’s finished before he’s satisfied and he grumbles to let her know, she chuckles back,

“impatient one aren’t you? You don’t need much although I’m sure that it feels like it, most of your fluids are coming through the IV.”

Ok, well that information makes him crack his eyes open, still wincing at the light. He comes face to face with the nurse.

“IV?” he croaks, eyes clamping shut again.

“Yes,” she told him, “you probably don’t remember but I have explained this before.”

Those words strike actual visceral fear into Jimin because, no, he remembers nothing since he was showing Jungkook around the gallery.

She continues, explaining that he is in hospital, and he’s safe but he’s got some significant injuries so he needs fluids and painkillers through the IV as well as various other medications, he can’t really follow, all he wants to know is,

“Kook?”

“Cook?” she questions, “you’re hungry?” she sounds unsure.

Jimin shakes his head, regretting it as his brain swirled violently, making him moan out again in pain.

“Jungkook,” he forces out, “my…” he tails off, a spark of memory returning, being called a fag, he winces hard.

“Ahh yes,” the nurse replies quickly, “your boyfriend, he’s here, he had to go and make a couple of phone calls, he should be back very soon.”

The knowledge that Jungkook was here and Jungkook was safe instantly relaxes Jimin, then something flows through the IV, he can feel it entering his bloodstream, it unnerves him slightly and he whimpers again.

“It’s ok,” the nurse reassures him, “it’s your morphine dose, it’ll relieve your pain and probably make you sleepy, don’t fight it.”

He couldn’t fight it if he tried, as soon as the morphine started to swirl around his system, erasing the pain everywhere it touched, Jimin was drifting and gone again.

 

 

When he wakes again the lights are dimmed and the pain is back, fiercer this time, and he wakes up with a gasp, he wants to squirm away from the pain, pull it out of him, do something, but knowing if he moves the pain will crash back a thousand times worse, all he can do is lie there and whimper.

He knows there is a soothing voice in the room again, and a straw is pushed between his lips again but he doesn’t want it, the pain is too bad, all of his muscles are stiff and contorted, his head feels like it’s going to explode, he feels like he’s going to vomit from the sheer volume of the pain.

Then there is a more serious voice in the room, a cool hand on his wrist, murmuring to the comforting nurse who now seems more agitated. Under the pain, Jimin knows they’re talking about him, and it feels like comforting nurse is fighting his corner for him. Then finally the warming buzz and blessed relief of the morphine courses through him again and his tense body relaxes back into unconsciousness.

 

The third time he wakes it’s to the sound of crying in his room, he takes an experimental big breath in, but the pain doesn’t come, vaguely in the back of his mind he realises he must still have a decent dose of painkiller in him, and he’s so grateful for it, to be awake without being in agonising pain feels like a good step forward.

He cracks his eyes open, it’s now really dark, it must be night time again, and Jungkook is there, curled into himself in the chair next to him, and his shoulders are shaking, it’s his crying that’s woken Jimin. He tries to reach for Jungkook but he’s hampered by god knows how many leads and tubes attached to him, so he speaks instead, voice rusty and croaky, his throat fiercely dry again.

“Kook?”

Jungkook’s head shoots up and Jimin’s heart constricts looking at his beautiful boyfriend’s exhausted and tearstained face.

“Min, fuck, you’re awake,” Jungkook gasps, hurriedly wiping his face and jumping up, hands hovering near Jimin, wanting to touch, too scared of hurting him.

“Water?” Jimin croaked pleadingly.

“Shit, yes, hang on, I’ll get some,” Jungkook scrambled to somewhere out of Jimin’s eye line, but he can hear the sounds of the cup and liquid. When Jungkook carefully tips the cup at his lips, Jimin swallows gratefully, even giggling slightly when he can’t keep up with Jungkook and gets some water down the front of his hospital gown.

“What happened?” he croaked again to Jungkook, indicating the sorry state of himself.

Jungkook cringed, “I don’t exactly know,” he told Jimin, “I had to pee, went into an alley, came out and four guys were beating the shit out of you, they fucking ran for it when I yelled at them.” Jungkook gulped hard, fresh tears threatening to spill down his face, “there was so much blood,” he moaned, “I thought you were dead.” The tears did escape then, running silently down Jungkook’s face as he tried to control himself.

Jimin nodded, flashes starting to make their way back into his mind, he isn’t exactly sure he wants to know so he doesn’t bother chasing them for now.

“How long have I been here?” Jimin asked, wondering.

“Not quite 24 hours,” Jungkook told him, checking his watch, “they said you’d be knocked out longer, you’re a fighter Min.”

Jimin scoffs, “clearly not, what’s the damage?”

Jungkook winced again, “from the top, you’ve got a fractured skull, fractured cheekbone, 3 broken ribs and at least 5 broken bones in your hand,” Jungkook lists quietly, “and a bit of internal bleeding,” he added as an afterthought, “but that’s not too bad.”

Jimin eyed him, lip quirking with mirth, “ow,” he concluded, making Jungkook snort out a little laugh.

“There’s a fucking understatement,” he told Jimin.

“How are you still here?” Jimin asked Jungkook, “is it Sunday? Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

Jungkook’s face crumpled a bit, and a look of guilt crossed his face,

“I’ve organised tomorrow off Min,” he explained quietly, “but I can’t have any more days, I’ve already been off because of Eunae…” he trailed off miserably.

Jimin nodded, “you have to go back tomorrow?” he checked.

Jungkook nodded back, “I’m so sorry,” he told Jimin, “I have no choice.”

Jimin could see how upset Jungkook was at the idea, but he had a job he had to keep, and a baby who was still hospitalised herself, he had to get back.

“’s ok,” he reassured Jungkook, “don’t think I’m going to be up to doing much for a bit anyway,” he quipped.

“I’ll be back next weekend,” Jungkook promised, “so just concentrate on getting better huh?”

Jimin smiled sleepily at Jungkook, already exhausted again.

Jungkook obviously saw it, “sleep Min,” he told him, leaning in to kiss him tenderly on the forehead, “I’ll be here.”

 

 

The next week passed in a total blur for Jimin, waking in pain, morphine doses, endless observations, being shuttled about for tests and scans and, the highlight of his days, visitors. So many people came, his room soon fills with cards and messages. He wakes up to someone’s hand slotted in his a lot more than he expected. His parents come, disgusted with the state of him, smothering him in parental love and little by little he improves. 

On Friday Taehyung comes, bouncing loudly into the room with his ever-present grin, and thankfully Jimin is already awake. His lucidity is greatly improved from a few days ago, he’s being weaned off the IV’s, and all but one is gone now. The annoying heartrate and oxygen monitors are still there but the oxygen mask isn’t, and Jimin is starting to feel himself again, so when Taehyung appears he happily returns his friend's wide smile.

“Tae,” he exclaims happily, noting the way Taehyung's face falls almost instantly, “what?” he questions.

“Fuck,” Taehyung breathes, “I thought they were all exaggerating, you look like shit,” he moves closer to Jimin, taking Jimin’s face gently in his hand and turning it this way and that to get the full view.

“Tae,” Jimin grumbles, batting his hand away, “you’re supposed to be nice to someone in hospital, not tell them they look like shit.”

“But you do,” Taehyung tells him honestly, “you’re bruised to fuck, and your hand…” Taehyung gasps, taking in the metalwork poking through Jimin’s skin, “what the fuck?”

“it’s, umm,” Jimin thinks hard, trying to recall what the doctor told him it was called, “fuck, can’t remember, kind of like scaffolding, holding the bones and stuff in place while it heals, they’ll take it back out at some point.”

Taehyung pales, looking more closely at his hand, “will you be able to draw again?” he asks bluntly.

Jimin grins, “be fine once they take the fucking IV out,” he tells Taehyung, waggling his fingers on his left hand, wincing as it shifts the tiny plastic tube in his vein, “urgh fuck that feels gross,” he mutters.

Taehyung looked at him quizzically before it twigs, “you’re left-handed?” he gasps.

“Thank fuck yes,” Jimin told him, relief bleeding through his words before indicating at his right hand, “I mean that’ll heal, but it probably won’t ever be perfect, if I’d been right-handed…” he shrugged but there was a lump in his throat.

Taehyung lent in and gave Jimin the most gentle hug he can ever recall Taehyung giving anyone, comforting Jimin, commiserating with him, letting him feel, giving him a moment.

When he lets go he has just one more question, “so when can we bust you out of this joint?”

Jimin grins again, the tense moment chased away, “apparently as soon as they are convinced my head won’t start bleeding again,” he tells him.

Taehyung just looks confused, “bit of internal bleeding in my head apparently, not too bad, but they’re keeping an eye on it, scanning me in a fucking terrifying machine,” he shudders, remembering the noise and claustrophobia of the MRI machine.

Taehyung nods, clearly not able to make head nor tail of this information, “so when’s that going to be?” he asked.

Jimin shrugged, “sometime next week apparently,” he told Taehyung, “they need me off the IV, hopefully, that’ll be coming out sooner rather than later, fucking hate it.”

Taehyung stayed for a couple of hours, entertaining Jimin, getting in the nurse's way, before he had to regretfully leave when visiting hours were over. This was fast becoming the loneliest time of day for Jimin, the hospital falling quiet, only staff passing back and forward. But today Taehyung had brought something precious to Jimin, something to stave off the loneliness, his phone. Miraculously undamaged in the fight, Jimin hasn’t seen it since, Jungkook had taken it to Jimin’s place and left it there. Through a convoluted series of key and message passing, Taehyung had called by Jimin’s place and brought it with him. He powers it up, thankfully it’s fully charged, and for the next 30 minutes or so, has to leave it as what feels like hundreds of messages and emails come pouring in. once it’s stopped, and Jimin feels like he can actually touch it without it buzzing, he texts Jungkook,

 

From: Me

“Hey Kook, how is Eunae?”

 

From what he’s heard from others, she’s home now and doing much better, but he wants to hear this from Jungkook, worried even from his own hospital bed for the little girl.

 

From: BBallBaker

“Holy shit, Jimin? Is this real? From now?”

 

Jimin grinned at the dramatics,

 

From: Me

“Live from my hospital bed Kook, seriously, how is Eunae?”

 

From: BBallBaker

“Fuck, it is so good to hear from you, Eunae is fine, like nothing ever happened, how are you?”

 

From: Me

“I’m better, not perfect, but better.”

 

From: BBallBaker

“Thank god, I’ve been so worried, I hated having to leave you, I’m coming back tomorrow.”

 

From: Me

“You don’t have to, I’m pretty boring at the moment.”

 

As much as he really wants to see Jungkook at the moment, he doesn’t want to impede, and besides, he’s definitely still going to be here over the weekend, it really will be boring for Jungkook.

 

From: BBallbaker

“Boring is good Min, boring is healing. Do you want me to bring you anything?”

 

From: Me

“Snacks?”

 

From: BBallBaker

“You really are feeling better aren’t you? I will bring you all of the snacks.”

 

He can hear the relief coming through in Jungkook’s texts, and his promise of snacks makes Jimin smile, the hospital food is fine, adequate, but he’s hungry, and snacks would be good.

 

From: Me

“Nothing too complicated to open, my hand is still held together with fucking Meccano.”

 

They chat back and forward for a bit, Jimin ignoring the odd message that comes up from other people, then he realises how late it is. His own sleep schedule has been totally fucked with from sleeping during the day so much and being drugged out. So he sends Jungkook off to bed, making him promise to sleep well so he’s safe to travel tomorrow, signing off from each other with a grin, knowing they’ll get to see each other tomorrow.

 

Then he reads the other messages, working through them all, his heartwarming all over again seeing how many people have tried to get in touch, to see how he is, to offer him help. He messages everyone back, updating them, letting them know the latest, promising to talk to them again as soon as he can and let them know when he’s released.

 

 

There is an automated text from his bank, he reads that last, not being as interesting as hearing from his friends. Turns out he’s a bit wrong though, the deposit from his exhibition night has gone in, and the sum is fucking enormous, far more than he’d expected, even knowing how many he’d sold that night. He’s confused and thinks there must be some sort of administrative error. He fires off a quick email to Choi Seunghyun, apologising again for outing himself that night without warning and the shit storm it had created, thanking him for his hard work, promising to get in touch as soon as he was released, and lastly, politely, questioning the deposit, the underlying message being ‘how much do I have to pay back?’

He’s asleep before the reply comes in, but its waiting for him when he wakes up, there is no error, the media had gotten wind of his beating that night, and had speculated as to why. Jimin searched for the stories online, mouth open as he read the details in black and white, he hadn’t even known that they’d apprehended the men responsible, that was good to know. There are comments too, lots of comments. Some are derogatory, he’d expected those, saying he’d got what he’d deserved, but they are in the minority, most people are vilifying the perpetrators, disgusted with how Jimin had been treated, horrified that the attackers had tried to end his career on the very night it was officially launched. The extra publicity had driven his supporters back to the gallery, buying everything that had remained unsold, and there was a clamour for more. Overnight a little-known artist from Busan has exploded on to the art scene, his name everywhere, and Choi Seunghyun wants to meet with him as soon as he feels able to, to discuss his next moves.

One week since his exhibition it seems like he’s actually famous, people are desperate to get their hands on his drawings, a couple have already exchanged hands for far more than their original purchase price and it looks like future drawings will sell for much higher prices than he’d ever imagined. 

He might be in the hospital right now, battered, bruised and broken but this might be the best day ever. Jungkook is coming, and, ironically, those bastards trying to end his career have actually succeeded in doing the exact opposite, they’ve elevated him to new heights, given him the publicity he couldn’t have dreamed of, and Jimin dozes off for yet another nap with a big dirty grin on his face. 

 

 

By Monday, after Jungkook has left again, promising to return again the following weekend despite Jimin’s protest, Jimin is really fucking over being in the hospital. He’s grouchy with everyone, the doctors, nurses, and visitors alike, it takes his original nurse, the one who was with him when he first awoke, to snap him out of it. She visits Jimin most days, even when she’s not assigned to care for him, checking in with him, and Jimin mostly appreciates it, apart from today. She pops her head around the door, smiling when she sees him awake,

“morning sunshine,” she greets him happily, “how are you doing today?”

He grunts at her, not returning her smile and bites out, “bored.”

She’s done this job long enough not to take offence and comes into his room despite his obvious bad mood.

“Good,” she tells him bluntly, shocking him enough to look up at her, hurt flashing in his eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he questioned her.

“Word on the street is that you are not in a good mood today,” she tells him, jokingly indicating the corridor outside his room, before concluding, “I’m glad.”

He looks at her again, trying to figure out what she’s getting at.

“You’re bored?” she questions, “frustrated?”

Jimin nods, his mood easing, she gets him.

“You’re ready to go home?”

Jimin nods again.

“Are you sure?” she asks him, her tone playful.

He frowns at her, “yes, why?”

She smirks at him, waving papers she’s had concealed behind her back that Jimin hadn’t even noticed.

“Just as well, they’re kicking you out,” she tells him triumphantly.

Jimin’s head jolts up, “seriously?” he questions.

She nods, “it’s always a good sign when patients get bored and surly, “she tells him, “if you’re well enough to be bored, you’re well enough to go home. Don’t think this is the last you’re seeing of us mind, it isn’t. You’ll have to get that hand and your healing bones checked out regularly, but you can do that as an outpatient now. Your appointment schedule is in here.”

A big grin spreads over Jimin’s face, “thank you,” he breathes, his mood instantly lightening, “sorry for being rude.”

She smiles sadly back, “it’s fine, I’d rather that than how poorly you were the first few days.”

“Right, so you have to listen to me now,” she tells him bossily, and Jimin grins at her tone, sitting up to listen attentively, only wincing slightly as his ribs shifted again.

“Ok, let’s address that first,” she tells him, “painkillers. You’ll need to stick rigidly to a schedule to start with, to enable you to be able to cope at home while you’re healing, if you don’t the pain will likely drive you back in here, understand?” she eyes him firmly and Jimin nods meekly.

She talks him through the rest, a seemingly endless supply of tablets that will keep him healthy and as pain-free as possible. Then it’s the appointments, for his hand, for his head, for his ribs and cheekbone. He will need another minor operation in a few weeks to remove the metalwork from his hand, and he will be in overnight for that. He’s not really happy but at least he’s been warned. Lastly, she reaches for a small tray, making Jimin wince out of sheer habit, she grins at him,

“stop panicking,” she tells him, “I need to remove the last IV. You’ll need to stay with us for at least another hour, to make sure you’re coping without it, but otherwise, you’re free, you can contact your ride home.”

Jimin sucks in a deep breath as the IV line comes out, it feels hideous, he’s never been the biggest fan of the sight of blood anyway so having to hold down the gauze to stop himself bleeding makes him glad he’s still in his bed.

He texts Yoongi, letting him know he can leave whenever he can get to him. Jimin knows Yoongi might be busy right now so he doesn’t worry when he doesn’t get a reply straight away, he knows Yoongi will get to him as soon as he can.

 

 

After the institutionalised routine of the hospital, the outside world seems far too bright, too cold, too loud and too overwhelming for Jimin at first. He’s only halfway to the carpark, walking next to Yoongi before he stops in his tracks, breathing too hard for his ribs to cope with. Yoongi is stroking his back soothingly almost instantly, guiding him to a nearby bench in the corridor, crouching in front of him.

“Jimin?” he questions quietly, “you ok? Is something hurting?”

Jimin smiles back wanly, “lots of things are hurting,” he mumbled back, “but that’s normal, it’s just a bit…” he trailed off, indicating everything around him and wincing.

Yoongi looked at him shrewdly, wordlessly handing him his sunglasses and taking his hand, “it’s ok, “ he reassured Jimin, “take your time, we’ll go when you’re ready.”

Jimin smiled back gratefully, putting the sunglasses on despite being inside, relaxing as they muted the light.

“Thanks,” he told Yoongi, finally able to breathe a bit easier, giving it a few more minutes before he pushed himself back up, “ok, let’s go.”

Yoongi slipped his hand back into Jimin’s, his solid palm and elegant fingers giving Jimin immense comfort.

 

 

Yoongi drove Jimin back to his place, coming up with him, helping him to gather a few things. Jimin had always intended to go home for Christmas, being hospitalised had put that in jeopardy, especially because he couldn’t drive while his bones were healing. But Yoongi had waited until Jimin was ready, he probably would have waited if Jimin had been kept in over Christmas, and for that, Jimin is truly grateful. Yoongi has been invited to spend Christmas with Jimin and his parents, and for the second year running, has agreed. It’s only a couple of days to go now, the possibility of him being in hospital over Christmas had been very real, to be heading straight home now, to his parents, to Jungkook, feels great.

Packing doesn’t take long, it’s just some clothes and essentials, and then they’re back in Yoongi’s car, a role reversal from previous years, and Jimin relaxes in the passenger seat, letting the hum of the car rolling over the tarmac lull him to sleep.

 

 

When he wakes up he can’t breathe again, cold sweat drenching him, pain coursing through him with every little bump in the road. He whimpers out before he’s even opened his eyes, scaring Yoongi.

“Painkillers,” he moans at Yoongi, “what’s the time?”

“Nearly 3 pm, hang on Jimin, I’m going to pull over,” Yoongi tells him, tone urgent but reassuring.

Nearly 3 pm? Fuck, he’s nearly an hour overdue for his pills, no wonder everything fucking hurts. He’s a fucking idiot, the first dose that he’s trusted to take himself and he’s fucking late with them. He gets why the nurse warned him that the pain could drive him back into the hospital, if he was closer he’d probably check himself back in right now.

Yoongi stops the car as gently as possible but the movement still makes Jimin cry out involuntarily.

“Where are they Jimin?” Yoongi questions, seatbelt unbuckled and hand on the door handle ready to jump out.

“Backpack, front pocket,” Jimin gasps out.

Then Yoongi is gone, Jimin can hear the boot of the car open and Yoongi cursing as he’s searching. Then the car door opens and Yoongi is there, crouched next to him, popping the pills out of their blister pack and feeding them tenderly to Jimin before passing him water to swallow them with. It makes his heart clench, and the memory of him doing the same for Yoongi after his dad beat the shit out of him floats into his mind.

He sits rigidly for a while, waiting for the pills to take effect, breathing shallowly. He barely notices Yoongi gently shut his door and return back to the driver’s seat, waiting patiently for Jimin.

As soon as he can breathe easier Yoongi sighs out a big breath.

“Fucking hell Jimin,” he mutters.

Jimin looks at him, “sorry,” he tells him, “I was sleeping, I forgot.”

“Set alarms,” Yoongi told him, “set them now, Jesus, you can’t get like that again.”

Jimin smiled at Yoongi, reaching for his phone anyway to do as he’s told.

“I’m serious,” Yoongi told him sternly, “imagine your mother having to watch you like that,” his eyes are still full of worry, and Jimin feels bad that his lapse has scared his friend so much. His face falls,

“I know, I really am sorry, and I’m setting the alarms now,” he waggles his phone to prove it, hoping to mollify Yoongi.

Yoongi just nods, “are you ready to go again?” he checks, voice gentle again.

Jimin breathes in deeply, experimentally, his ribs still hurt but it’s bearable again, and he nods, “yeah,” before reaching to squeeze Yoongi’s knee, “thank you.”

 

 

When they get back to his parents, Yoongi won’t let Jimin carry anything inside, shooing him away from the boot, telling him to go and see his parents. Jimin smiles and walks to the front door to knock. His mum fusses, naturally, his bruises only having come out more in the last week than when he saw them, he knows he’s going to be coddled half to death while he’s here, normally he’d probably fight it, but actually, he feels like he kind of needs it right now. So he allows his mum to lead him to the sofa like he might not remember where it is, to fluff up the cushions and arrange him comfortably, to fetch him a pillow to rest his hand on, and to ruffle his hair like he was twelve again.

He texts Jungkook, to let him know that not only is he out of hospital but that he is back, and lying on his parent's couch. Jungkook is at work but he still manages to text back, his excitement is palpable even through the pixels on the screen, and, if Jimin’s parents don’t mind, he’s coming over after work. As if Jimin’s parents ever mind him being there.

 

 

The next couple of days are bliss, barely moving between his bed and the couch, being waited on hand and foot, being fed delicious foods and, thanks to Yoongi’s good-natured nagging, the pain being dulled thanks to the constant painkillers. They make him drowsy, meaning he succumbs to an impromptu afternoon nap on what has become his couch. Jungkook comes by in the evenings, straight from work, to check in with him, to chat and catch up. He stays for tea, eating sat on the floor next to Jimin’s couch, and hanging out companionably together. When he finishes helping with the washing up tonight, he comes back into Jimin, to say goodbye, and to surprise him.

“Tomorrow we’re going out,” he announces, giggling at Jimin’s shock.

“Wait, what?” Jimin questions.

“No work tomorrow, it’s Christmas Eve, I want you to walk down to the café with me, mum closes at lunchtime so we have to go early.”

“You want me to walk? To the café?” Jimin asks, incredulous.

Jungkook giggles again, “it’s not that far you great big drama queen,” he tells Jimin.

“I’m not a drama queen,” Jimin huffs back, “I am very injured.” He knows that is stretching the truth a bit, but he’s angling for more sympathy.

Jungkook’s eyes soften, “I know Min,” he soothes, but you can’t sit around being a sloth forever,” he sasses at Jimin, making him sit upright in indignation.

“Hey, I’m not a fucking sloth,” he grumbles.

“I’ll give you a treat if you come with me,” Jungkook entices, looking at Jimin meaningfully.

Jimin swallows hard at what Jungkook is implying, “yeah?” he questions, clearly interested.

Jungkook smirks back, “come with me tomorrow and you’ll see.”

Jimin grins back, “fine,” he tells Jungkook, reaching up for a cuddle.

Jungkook shakes his head, “nope, you want me, come and get me.”

Jimin huffs, pushing the blanket off himself and swinging his legs around so he can stand up. He walks over to Jungkook and winds his arms around him, mindful of the metalwork still poking out of his hand, god he can’t wait to get rid of that.

“Hey look at that, you’re upright,” Jungkook croons softly in Jimin’s ear, “I’ve missed you being upright.”

He circles his hips very gently, pushing his crotch suggestively against Jimin’s making sparks of desire instantly flood through Jimin.

“I’ve missed lots of things being upright,” he finished crudely, whispering in Jimin’s ear.

Jimin just moans softly in response, pressing his lips to Jungkook’s. Jungkook kisses him back chastely before pulling back, pecking him once more before releasing him.

“Tomorrow baby,” he promises, grinning at Jimin, leaving him stood alone and embarrassingly turned on in the middle of his parent’s living room.

Because, if the truth be told, Jimin hasn’t touched himself since the night he was attacked. Mostly because he’s been in the hospital and in too much pain to even think about it, but partially because he may be left-handed for drawing, but for self-pleasuring he is most definitely right-handed, and his right hand is most definitely out of commission at the moment. He groans, pushing his uninjured hand through his hair. Not being able to touch himself hadn’t bothered him until now, and now it’s all he can think about, fucking Jungkook leaving him like this, it’s been too long, and he needs to get off.

 

He heads to his room, shutting the door, locking the door, contemplating just how the fuck he’s going to do this. He flops gingerly onto his bed, pressing his hips into the mattress, and actually that pretty good, but it’s not good enough. Blushing at himself, he shoves one of his pillows down between his legs, giving him something bigger to thrust against and, god, that’s much better. He rocks his hips, pressing harder into the pillow, whimpering slightly at the blessed relief. Abandoning all pretences he shoves his left thumb in his mouth, always his preferred one to suck anyway, rocking quicker, thinking of all the times Jungkook had pressed him into this mattress, thinking of what Jungkook might have in mind for tomorrow. It doesn’t take him many minutes of thrusting, sucking and imagining before he finds his ending, biting gently on his own thumb as his hips falter and slow, remembering just a bit too late that he hasn’t actually bothered to take off any clothes, his soft pyjama bottoms not restricting his cock anyway. It’s probably not a bad thing, at least this way he hasn’t soiled his pillow in any way, and the pyjamas can be buried in the laundry hamper.

He cleans up quickly, not bothering to shower, he can do that tomorrow, only just remembering to take his pill before he drifts off to sleep, looking forward to Jungkook coming in the morning.

 

 

As it turns out, Jungkook turns up far earlier than he’d expected, he’s still asleep and assuming he’s dreaming when Jungkook peppers little kisses across his face to wake him up.

“Shit, you’re early,” Jimin grumbled, wincing in pain when he reaches for him, “what time is it?”

“Tablet time?” Jungkook questions, concern crossing his face and disappearing out of the room when Jimin just nods in response.

He comes back with a glass of cool water, just in time for Jimin to swallow the pills that have swiftly become part of his life.

“Thanks,” he tells Jungkook, “just give me a minute for them to kick in huh?”

Jungkook nods, “shall I find something for you to wear while we’re waiting?” he questions.

“’s ok, I need to shower first anyway,” Jimin told him.

“Ahh Min, we don’t have time for that,” Jungkook grumbles, leaning over to sniff him in an exaggerated fashion, “you smell fine anyway,”

Jimin blushed slightly, “Kook, I really do need to shower,” he grumbled, trying not to think too deeply as to why.

Jungkook looked at him curiously, “do I want to know?” he asked.

Jimin shook his head, “no,” he mumbled, refusing to look at Jungkook.

Jungkook smirked, “oh I think I do, spill Min, what have you been up to?”

“Shut up,” Jimin told him, “I’m in pain.” He tried this as a desperate get out of jail clause, hoping that Jungkook would shut up and drop it, he should have known better.

“They should be kicking in by now Min, even I know they’re fast acting ones, so tell me, please?” he wheedled.

“Your fault, leaving me high and dry last night,” Jimin glowered at him, “had to…”

“Take care of yourself?” Jungkook finished, his own breath hitching in interest, “and just how did you do that with your cyborg hand?”

Jimin rolled his eyes, exasperated and embarrassed, “obviously I couldn’t use my hand could I?”

Jungkook licked his lips, “Min?” he asked, his voice low, “what did you use?”

Jimin can see the effect that this conversation is having on Jungkook, he can recognise the early signs of arousal in him, and it’s making him fucking horny all over again.

“humped my fucking pillow, happy now?” he growled at Jungkook, wanting nothing more than to grab him and demand Jungkook fucks him hard, right now.

“Jesus Christ,” Jungkook mumbled, almost too quiet for Jimin to catch, “no I’m not fucking happy, I’m goddamn horny imagining that,” Jungkook growled at him, his fingers twitching as if he wants to either grab Jimin, or himself “come on, let’s get you in the shower, or we’ll never get to the damn café before it shuts.”

“Shower with me?” Jimin asked him quietly.

Jungkook whimpered back, “god Min, the things you do to me,” he told him, reaching for his own clothes, starting to strip himself off in response.

 

 

Jungkook started the shower, made sure it was at a good temperature, and carefully stripped Jimin off before helping him in. the bruises were still very evident, almost the entire of Jimin’s chest on the right side was stained with blues, purples and greens, darker over the broken bones. It was the first time Jungkook had seen him naked since and he was obviously pretty shocked, taking even greater care to be gentle than he had been when Jimin was clothed. Jungkook washed Jimin, rubbing shampoo through his hair with tender fingers, mindful that Jimin’s head would be bruised under his hair too. Skating his hands all over Jimin’s body, rubbing soap over his muscles, smirking slightly as he ran his hands over Jimin’s ass, washing efficiently over his softened cock and balls, making Jimin gasp slightly, and press back into Jungkook’s hand. Jungkook grinned, 

“No time Min, not now.”

Jimin just closed his eyes, and bit his lip, just that fleeting touch was enough to spark his arousal again, “please Kook?” he begged.

Jungkook glowered at him, “I swear to god Jimin, if you don’t walk down to the café with me after this I will fucking spank you.”

Jimin smirked back, “that’s not the right threat to use with me Kook, you know that, I’d only enjoy it.”

Jungkook gasped, eyes wide, and then reached for Jimin, kissing him hard, “one day,” he growled, voice deepened with desire, “I am going to fucking spank you Min, so hard you’ll feel it for days.”

The idea is clearly turning him on as much as it is Jimin, both of their cocks hard and needy, pressed against each other.

Jimin only whispers back, “good.” And Jungkook reaches for them both, holding their cocks in his hand, and moving up and down their lengths.

The twin stimulations of Jungkook’s hand and his cock pressed against Jimin’s is fucking heavenly, and despite having come less than twelve hours ago, Jimin knows he’s already dangerously close again.

He pulls Jungkook back in, kissing him hard as Jungkook’s hand speeds up between them, tugging them both towards a certain end. To Jimin’s surprise, Jungkook comes first, his groans echoing around the shower. The lewdness of his voice and the feel of his come pulsating out of him and onto Jimin makes him answer with his own orgasm. He cringes slightly as the much more intense sensation than he gave himself last night twinges his fractures, but its ok, the orgasm is more than worth the extra pain it brings.

 

 

The walk to the café is ok if a bit slower than Jimin is used too. He’s actually not putting it on this time, this is the most exercise he’s had since and it does hurt a lot more than sitting on the couch does. By the time they get there he’s exhausted and slumps down in one of the best chairs as soon as they make it through the doors. He’s unselfconscious, this place feels like a second home for him, he knows this place like the back of his hand, god knows how many times he’s cleared and wiped this exact table, pushing this exact chair in, stood behind that counter, pushed his way through the staff door that Jungkook has just disappeared through. Once he catches his breath he looks around, letting the memories flood through him, waiting for Jungkook to come back from chatting with his mum. He pauses just once, where his drawing of the café once hung, there is a different picture, a perfectly adequate watercolour, but it’s not his drawing. His heart lurches, where has his picture gone? He has a particular soft spot for that drawing because it’s that one that had effectively launched his career, it’s that drawing that made Choi Seunghyun search him out, to scout him. Why isn’t it there anymore?

Jimin is still staring at the offending watercolour when Jungkook returns, he sees the look of hurt and confusion on Jimin’s face, and when he looks at what Jimin is looking at, he seems to understand.

When Mrs Jeon comes out to greet him, Jimin stands, smiling at her. She smiles back, perfectly friendly and polite with him, but something is off, something he can’t quite put his finger on. He can’t bring himself to ask about the drawing, can’t bring himself to ask her what’s wrong, it wouldn’t be right to ask anyway, but it upsets him, and there is only one thing that Jimin can think of that would have her acting this way, the fact that he had outed himself before he was attacked.

He’s not an idiot, Jungkook has always been honest with Jimin that he’d never been able to come out because of his parent’s stance on homosexuality, it had made him sad for Jungkook that he couldn’t be himself around his parents, but Jimin hadn’t really been affected. Mrs Jeon had treated him like a second son, encouraging him, teaching him, feeding him, being proud of him, and now, it seemed like she suddenly wasn’t, and it really hurt.

They exchange pleasantries, but it’s strained, the subject of his exhibition and subsequent beating is completely ignored, despite his glaring injuries, and it’s weird and awkward and Jimin can’t wait to get back out of there.

They walk back even slower than they’d walked there, guilt is obviously weighing heavily on Jungkook and utter fatigue on Jimin. The festive atmosphere on the surrounding streets doesn’t lighten their moods and they get back to Jimin’s wrapped up in their own misery.

They head for Jimin’s room wordlessly, lying down on Jimin’s bed, not touching, Jungkook is the first to crack,

“Min, I’m so sorry,” his voice is wobbly and quiet, “I didn’t know that they knew.”

“They’re really anti-gay huh?” Jimin breathed, shocked.

Jungkook nodded miserably, “I always knew I’d have to keep stuff to myself, to dodge the girlfriend questions, but fuck…” he tails off and runs his fingers through his hair, frustrated, “to see mum treat you so coldly.” He shook his head sadly, “I wish I could have told her right then how much I love you Min.”

Jimin smiled sadly back at him, “you can’t though Kook, I understand.”

Jungkook huffed out, growling in anger, “I wish I could though, fuck, I wanted today to be good, and I turned it to shit.”

Jimin reached for him, demanding Jungkook come for a cuddle, “no you didn’t,” he reassured him as Jungkook snuggled into his side.”

They cuddled for a bit, taking comfort in being together before Jungkook has to leave. Whatever sexual treat he’d had planned for Jimin is long forgotten in their misery, at least they had their moment in the shower this morning.

 

 

On Christmas morning, Jimin awakes in pain, again, he’s getting heartily fucking sick of this. He dutifully takes his pills, sneaks a quick text to Jungkook and joins his family and Yoongi in the lounge.

Despite yesterday he can’t help but get into the spirit, it’s amazing how stupid four adults can get when Christmas spirit is added. Jimin’s parents seem determined that he will have a good day, and he does. Especially when he realises that Yoongi has managed to sneak presents from Jungkook under the tree for all of them. Jimin saves his for last, it’s a little box and he feels guilty that he hasn’t given Jungkook his Christmas present yet. He’s had to go fairly generic for Jungkook, knowing that anything too meaningful would elicit too many questions. He’s bought him a hoodie, its black, lined with the softest fabric he could find and it has a tiny rainbow on the label on the right hip, and he’s bought himself a matching one. Jungkook can easily get away with wearing it everywhere, but only the two of them will know the significance. Jimin hopes that when Jungkook does wear it that it’ll make him feel like he’s wrapped in Jimin’s arms.

Eventually, he’s down to just Jungkook’s present, and Jimin is urged by everyone else to open it. His hands are stupidly shaking when he does, it isn’t easy with this fucking metalwork poking out of his hand, and he’s tempted to use scissors like he’s resorted to with a few of his other, better-wrapped gifts. He perseveres though, revealing a ring box, and the other three all gasp. He looks up, rolling his eyes at them. Because it’s not a ring, Jungkook isn’t proposing, he can’t anyway. It’s probably earrings, or maybe a necklace, although the box is a bit small for that. He hesitates before he cracks open the box, frustrating his onlookers. 

Turns out he’s half wrong, it is a ring, but not an engagement ring. It’s a fairly wide band, inlaid all the way around with a rainbow of sparkling stones. They are all cut almost impossibly slender, fitting next to each other like coloured pencils in a box. And Jimin gets it, this way he can wear the colours he loves so much constantly, whether he’s drawing or not. He passes it wordlessly to his mum, lump in his throat too big to speak for a second. Her eyes sparkle almost as much as the gemstones.

“Oh gosh, it's beautiful,” she gasps, showing it to Jimin’s dad before passing it back, “lucky boy,” she grins at him, “go text him thank you, and tell him to come over tomorrow.”

Jimin nods, sliding the ring onto his left thumb where it fits perfectly, turning his hand back and forward to admire it.

He takes a photo of it on, sending it to Jungkook, along with a thank you and the invitation to come tomorrow. The reply is brief, Jungkook is obviously with his own family, but he’s coming tomorrow and the knowledge makes Jimin happy.

 

 

Jungkook texts early, embarrassed, but Hyejin’s plans for the day have fallen through thanks to an unwell relative, he naturally doesn’t want to leave her alone, so Jimin suggests he brings Hyejin and Eunae too. It’s a good suggestion, Jimin’s mum barely lets Jimin get a look in with Eunae before she is begging for a turn to have a cuddle. She eyes him knowingly while he’s cradling the baby comfortably, passing her over confidently, she can obviously tell it’s not his first time with her. He can only grin back, hoping he can pry Eunae from her hands before they head away again. Hyejin and Jimin’s mum shoo the boys away, telling them they need some privacy to gossip, Hyejin immediately relaxed with Jimin’s mum.

So they make for Jimin’s bedroom, shutting themselves in, Jimin handing over Jungkook’s present, and slyly revealing his matching hoodie. Jungkook loves it, and the messages behind it, it’s too warm in the house to wear it now though so he carefully puts it aside, taking Jimin in his arms, hugging him in thanks.

Time is short, again, Jimin heads back to Seoul tomorrow with Yoongi, well enough to resume drawing, needing to meet with Choi Seunghyun to discuss his next moves, needing to get back to reality, albeit with a half metal hand for now.

Despite Jimin’s parents being home, despite Jungkook’s wife and daughter being in the house, despite one of their best friends being here, they make love anyway. Jungkook enters Jimin with infinite care, pushing inside him gently, making sure not to jolt Jimin too hard, making sure it feels nothing but exquisitely good. It’s slow, and teasing and so fucking necessary that Jimin could actually cry.

Afterwards, he does, just a bit, silent tears tracking down his face, overwhelmed and so deliriously happy. Jungkook is concerned as soon as he realises that the dampness coming from Jimin snuggled into his chest is tears, not sweat. He pushes him gently away, peering at him,

“are you in pain?” he checks.

Jimin shakes his head, giving Jungkook a watery smile, “no,” he reassures him, “just happy.”

Jungkook looks confused, “then why are you crying?” he questions.

Jimin shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know,” he said quietly, “too many feelings inside I guess,” instantly cringing at his own sappiness.

Jungkook just giggled, “could you be any cuter?” he questioned.

Jimin huffed at him, “dammit Kook, I’m trying to have a moment here, not be cute.”

Jungkook just kissed him on the nose in response, “you’re cute anyway,” he told him, “and I love you, you are mine.”

Jimin pecked him lightly back, pushing the remnants of tears off his face, the moment gone, “I am yours,” he added happily, “and you are mine.”

“Always,” Jungkook told him solemnly.

 

 

They cuddled for a bit longer until Jimin’s alarm reminded him that it was time for pills, pills he’d left in the kitchen this morning. He grumbled as he turned off the noise, grabbing his clothes and dressing, throwing Jungkook’s clothes at him. He probably needed to go anyway, take Hyejin and Eunae home. They’ve been so lucky to have this time together, Jimin’s parents and Hyejin conspiring to give them time alone has been wonderfully heart-warming and he loves them all for it.

As soon as he’s taken the pills he reaches for Eunae again, snuggling her tiny body into his, kissing her peach fuzz soft head before returning her to her father. Watching as she was secured into her car seat and waving them all off at the door.

To anyone watching, to neighbours, it would look like a young family had spent the last couple of hours visiting with Jimin’s parents, showing off their new addition. No one would be any the wiser that the new father had, in fact, spent most of those hours fucking Jimin’s brains out, the thought makes Jimin grin wider than he had any right to as he waved Jungkook goodbye.

 

 

And then it’s time for him to head back to Seoul, dosed up on painkillers, under strict instructions from his parents not to miss any, loaded up with goodness knows how much extra food, things that will be easy for him to reheat or make with his hand still out of commission for a few weeks. Yoongi grumbled good-naturedly, knowing it would be him who needs to carry it all up to Jimin’s place, and no doubt put it all away for him. The drive back is good, much better than the trip down, Jimin is another week better, his bones are another week closer to being mended fully, he’s another week closer to full health. Ahead of him is an unfinished drawing left on his easel that night, a meeting with Choi Seunghyun planned for the day after tomorrow, and his future as a now acclaimed artist. It’s scary, and he’s definitely not ready for the fame, but he’ll do his best and, singing as loud as he can with Yoongi on their trip back he concludes, that’s really all anyone can do.


End file.
